


Marichat May Day #4: Protective Chat

by pamplemousses



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 3 parter, Day #4, F/M, MIGHT BE POSSIBLE NSFW THEMES LATER IDK, Mentions of Blood, i liked the prompt too much why, injured!marinette, marichat may fic, protective chat, this is angst and fluff but still angst, yeah this took 4ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamplemousses/pseuds/pamplemousses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the early morning air, hung the shrill cry of a pedestrian in need, and Chat Noir just happened to be heading home from 5:00 AM patrol with Ladybug. (Note: Not actually with Ladybug, but away from her )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeing Red

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so this was supposed to kind of like a drabble but then it morphed into some over 1k that will be a three-parter so yah enjoy

Red. Just red, red, red. That was the first color that greeted Chat Noir as he arrived at the source of the scream, and it wasn’t like his Lady’s suit either; it was the fresh blood staining the shirt of his classmate, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It dyed the whole front of her tee and matching black mini jacket, some of it already seeping onto her jeans, dying the concrete she was slumped on a brilliant rouge. She was the only injured civilian on the premises (only civilian for that matter), and as far as he could tell, the offender was nowhere to be found.

“Oh my god, Marinette!”

Adrien’s heart seized at the sight of his close friend injured in such a heartless manner, and white-hot anger seared through him like wild fire. The urge to find whoever hurt Marinette and beat them senseless until all they could see was red overwhelmed Chat’s primal instinct, and the fact that his dear classmate was in bad shape was the only thing that kept him from doing so. Without wasting anymore time, the leather-clad hero vaulted down from the roof he was spectating on and rushed to the bloody teen’s aid, halting in front of her to inspect the damage. What looked to be a deep cut started the bluenette’s shoulder, working it’s ragged line all the way down to the back her elbow. In a flash, Chat was stooping besides her, propping her up against his right forearm, and tearing cloth from her shirt with the other arm.

Marinette merely looked up at him, eyes glassy and expression a million miles from earth.

“Kitty..? What are you doing here?” She coughed, using her uninjured arm to bring a pink hand to his cheek.

Oh no, no, no she’s already showing symptoms of blood loss was all Adrien could think as he stifled the heavy metallic flow going down her pale appendage. No fathomable explanation from Mari could convince him otherwise she shouldn’t have been out walking at such an ungodly hour in the morning. Despite what foreigners and tourists suspect, Paris isn’t exactly the safest place on earth; if it wasn’t already obvious with akuma attacks, there was a lovely assortment of ruffians and thieves waiting in the shadows to prove his point. But, if Marinette knew about the city’s history of crime, why did she go out in the first place? Based on her ongoing run with late slips and marked absences, Chat never struck his classmate as the type to get up this early, unless some sort of emergency occurred.

Immersed in deliberation, the frazzled teen failed to sense the approach of another body, as his pained companion shouted “Chat Noir, behind you!”

_Crack!_

Something hard and dense broke apart between the span of Chat Noir’s shoulder blades, sharp pieces of the object wedging themselves into his suit. Judging from how much it stung, he could only guess the weapon of choice was a glass bottle, a poor option of defense compared the hurt Adrien was about to inflict upon the attacker. Without missing a beat, the hero carefully set Marinette against a nearby brick wall, promising to take her to the paramedics after he caught the perpetrator. Spinning on the heel of his boot, Chat knocked back the criminal with a swipe of his paw, claws catching on the fabric of their shirt. A loud scuffle of clothes and pavement clarified whoever he just scratched fell to the ground.

“I’m going to make you regret the day you were born, you-…” The furious cat started to spat, stopping dead with his insult as he took on the sight of the person shivering on the dirty cement in front of him. It was a middle-aged male with a scruffy face and ratty, old clothes; the old man was holding out a shaking hand armed with a broken bottle, terror evident in his crinkled eyes. He almost seemed pitiful.

Almost.

“G-Get, get out of here you freaks! Don’t make me hurt you again! First, it was the Chinese bitch, flying from the sky with her flashing red costume, and now you mangy ca-…!” Out of disgust, Adrien smacked the homeless man in the mouth with his baton, lips curling into a nasty snarl. Dark red liquid spurt from where he hit the man, and somewhere a glass bottle clattered to the concrete, rolling away resoundingly.

“Shut your filthy mouth. You can tell the police all about us ‘freaks’ when they get here to throw your sorry ass in prison.” He was beyond angry; he was enraged. Chat sauntered over to the terrified citizen, retracting his pole as he walked. “Or you can choose option number two, and I’ll do what you did to my friend…think of it as a ‘Get out of Jail Free!’ card, but with less pieces of you intact afterwards.” He stooped to eye-level with the old man, grabbing a fist-full of his collared polo.

“Take your pick. I’m betting you’ll pick option one, so listen carefully: If I ever see your face in the same area as Marinette again, I won’t hesitate to tear you apart. That goes for anywhere else in the city, too. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” His voice had dropped to a dangerously low octave, tone piercing the chilly morning air like a double-edged sword. Fearful of his life, the man nodded vigorously, muttering prayers to God above for Chat not to hurt him anymore. Satisfied, Chat threw the man away from him and the poor sap scrambled to a more secluded part of the alley way, weeping for his mother the entire way.

A weak cough brought Adrien back to his senses, and he blinked rapidly, memories of his original objective orbiting in his mind. _Marinette needs him right now._ At the flick of his tail, he was next to Mari once again, wrapping his arms around her feeble form bridal style and pulling them both upright; she groaned at the sudden movement, skin more pale than before and slick with sweat.

“Chat, it hurts.” She sniffled, leaning her head on his shoulder. His heart palpitated in guilt and grief at such a painful statement.

“I know princess, just stay with me okay? Don’t close your eyes.” Chat pressed a gentle kiss to her temple reflexively, as if it would alleviate some of the ache the heroine was feeling at the moment. “Hold on tight, I’m taking you to the hospital-”

“No! Please, I don’t want my parents to find out!” Marinette suddenly protested, her forehead smashing into his chin as she quickly lifted her head. Chat, who had vaulted towards a nearby rooftop, almost lost balance from the abrupt impact and had to make a rough landing on the gravelly building. He turned his body so that when they made contact with the roof, he landed on his back while Mari sprawled in a heap on top of him. Groans of agony escaped both of them as their injuries surfaced from a dormant state to an active throbbing.

Adrien clenched his teeth and struggled to sit up, but with the stinging on his back and chin, and a fragile Marinette laid across the lap of his suit, it proved difficult. Only by sheer force and determination did he finally manage to get into a semi-crisscross formation, treading on eggshells as he positioned the near-hysterical heroine in the crook of his folded leg while one arm was slung around the middle of her back. Even though the bleeding had stopped, Mari was in no shape to be fighting him on getting her medical attention. What was her deal?

Marinette was taking in quick breaths, nursing her hurt arm against her chest all the while shuddering in his embrace.

“Chat Noir, please, I’m begging you not to take me to a hospital. Please, I’ll tell you where my house is and you can take me there, but I won’t allow you to take me anywhere else!” For someone on the verge of a panic attack, the bluenette sure could speak coherently.

“What?! No Marinette, just no! I have to-“

“Chat, it is very important that you take me to my bedroom. Think about the trouble the both of us could get into if we show up to the police like this. Won’t it look suspicious? Do you really want to be answering questions all night while dealing with a back wound?” So she had been paying attention to his little quarrel with the person responsible for this whole mess. Adrien hated to admit it, but his friend drove a very good point; they had already lost enough time as it is curfew wise and god forbid Nathalie or his father wake up and find he’s gone. Resting a bit in her room wouldn’t hurt, at least until he could get in contact with Ladybug and have her help him sort the situation out. Sighing deeply, he looked Marinette in the eyes, blue and green meeting in a spark of electricity.

“Alright. But if you bleed anymore, I _will_ take you the hospital, be it kicking and screaming the whole way.” Smirking, he added “And don’t bother to tell me your address, I am perfectly aware of how to get into your room.”

In the light of the moon, Marinette thanked the heavens it was too dark for him to see her blush.


	2. Crumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Looks can be deceiving" is an understatement for his princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow looky here a update after a week and a half wait .-.  
> Okay so this chapter is not in the least fluffy, unless you categorize overthinking teens and blood as a cute scenario...please read this to the very end ;-;
> 
> Prompt: "Protective Chat"  
> Pairing (do i need to bother?): Marichat

No matter how dim his surroundings may be, Chat didn’t fail to notice the rubescent skin of Marinette’s cheeks; he was no fool to the affect he had on girls everywhere, especially his die-hard fans, but he took it as an ultimate achievement to get a reaction out of his iron-hearted friend (to his interpretation). But then again, they were both incredibly battered and tired at the moment, so it’s no wonder the bluenette really didn’t have control of her emotions. Thinking about it, Chat himself didn’t really have a reign on his heart either, seeing that he felt a little too _pleased_ at Mari’s flustered state of mind.

To him, this was a red flag that they needed to get going in the direction of the Boulangerie Patisserie, home of the freckled-lass’s room. Sighing, he moved his free hand to Marinette’s good shoulder, giving her a light squeeze that indicated she needed to get up. She whined as he began to unfurl his legs, moving lithely and diligently to help her up.  


“Tsk, tsk princess! We are in no position to complain, seeing as your well-being is at stake.” He chided her resilience to move with him. “You’re doing great, okay? Easy does it…” Slowly but surely he got his classmate in a standing form, as to make it immensely facile for the poor girl to climb on his back piggy-back style; Adrien snaked an arm securely around the under part of both of her thighs, praying she wouldn’t slip as he did his run-et-vault technique across the coming buildings. A heavy force settled on his right shoulder-blade, and Chat surmised Marinette had laid her pounding head down to rest. He trusted she wouldn’t fall asleep on him, accounting it would further complicate the situation and force him to take her to the hospital.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, Marinette. Ready?” The model felt her nod. “Alright then, just hold onto me as tight as you can. Keep holding onto me no matter what.”

With that, both the unknowing heros were speeding off into the inky night, soaring and landing in a continuous rhythm throughout the Paris scape.

~~~

In record time, an exhausted Chat Noir dropped squarely through the trap-door of Marinette’s balcony, touching down in a rather unceremonious _thump_ on her feathery, double-striped bed spread. Unfortunately, the jump jostled his companion’s mangled arm, and Adrien flinched slightly at the sound of discomfort that reverberated against his back when Mari reacted to the unwelcome movement.

During the journey, Chat took the time to wonder about the comment the hobo who attacked Marinette made right before he busted his front teeth. What exactly did the old man mean when he spoke of Mari ‘flying from the sky with her flashing red costume’? He knew he spoke of Ladybug in the slur, but what connection did his Lady have in this ordeal? Could it have just been gibberish or did hold truth about why she was bleeding in the alley? Maybe there was a possibility that his shy friend could be Ladybug…? Adrien’s pondering only led to more fantasies and questions, which guided him to the conclusion that he would deal with his suspicions later.

“Sorry.” He muttered, eyeing the cerise footprints he left on the comforter as Chat made his way down the black-white iron step-ladder connecting his princess’s bed to ground-level. There was no way he was going to set Mari on the polka-dotted _rosy_ chaise-lounge, and leave her to explain why there were bloody splotches on a rather expensive piece of furniture. Maybe the floor would be a better option? But if that’s the case, then he needed some kind of towel to save the hardwood from potential evidence of her messy injury.

After a bit more of self-deliberating, the miraculous holder decided to go with option two, assuming it would be a lot easier and cleaner for the both of them-

“Chat, just take me to the bathroom and that way the two of us can get taken care of without having to rid my room of any blood splatters.” Marinette coughed, seemingly unapologetic from her rough way of phrasing. To his begrudged shock, her plan was well-thought out than he expected from someone borderline incoherent and he was the one who still had most of his blood circulating in his veins. Adrien felt bad at the tiny prick of jealousy because _damn_ she was sharp even in desperate conditions. 

“Okay, sounds good…which way is your bathroom?”

When she rattled off the route to her bathroom, Chat had to once again be extra careful moving his friend down the trap-door stairs and maneuver them both into her hallway restroom, all the while being as soundless as possible. It was a tedious task, but his tension subsided when he locked the lavatory handle from the inside; this ensured that if they were found out, no one could get in without a key. He felt Marinette move, and a few seconds later light flooded the small space, revealing a quaint but tastefully arranged washroom. Almost every surface was tiled and smooth, much to the superhero’s delight, since carpet was too susceptible to staining.

“Where’s your first-aid kit? You’ll probably need stitches or something to keep the wound closed…” Adrien trailed off as he set Marinette in the tub, eyes scanning the current state of her slash.

“It’s under the sink, bottom-left shelf; can’t miss it.” She replied, trying to wiggle out of her petty-coat, half-succeeding with her good arm while she dare not attempt to remove it from beneath her injury. The designer regarded Chat Noir in new-found appreciation as he turned away to search for the medical kit, stare falling on his glass-torn back. Despite being hurt himself, he endured the discomfort for the sake of her injury and Marinette grimaced at how stupidly selfless the act was.

Chat had been nothing but compliant with her demands, and asked for no explanations in return. What was going through his head right now? She knew he was curious, so where was the stream of questions? Was he just in shock or too miffed by the ordeal to think properly? Unless…

Did Chat Noir know Marinette was Ladybug? That bastard hobo did make an off-hand comment about her de-transforming right before his eyes, and her partner had to be deaf not to hear the loud accusation thrown in her direction before he silenced the old man. To add, the assumption that she was Ladybug would make more sense about how she injured rather than the teen suddenly decided to take an early morning stroll a few miles away from home. _Dieu_ , none of this was fair! If only she had taken more care to choose a place to release her transformation, all of this could’ve been avoided!

Chat returned with the first-aid kit and sat on the edge of the bath, body half-turned to face the heroine; he set the small box besides him. A look of concentration mixed with apprehension donned the model’s features as he lifted Marinette’s arm to his lap, murmuring words of contrite to her as he did so. With punctilious motions, he unraveled the soiled cloth starting from her shoulder, working his way down until the make-shift bandage was completely separated from her cut. Adrien discarded the bloody wad in a nearby trash bin, shifting his position so that he now sat with both feet braced against the inside of the bathtub.

“Okay princess, this next part won’t be as painless.” Chat warned, slipping the coat-collar fabric between his thumb and index finger. His freckled patient nodded, eyes shut and teeth gritted in anticipation. “If it gets to be too much, just tell me and we’ll figure something else out.” With that offer in the air, he meticulously began to peel away the blood-sodden layer from her wound, gaze going back-and-forth from Mari’s arm and face. In his opinion, the act could almost be considered intimate, if one didn’t account the situation itself. The hero cringed as the sticky material stretched the skin bordering the laceration upwards, each pull accompanied with a sound akin to what duct tape makes when one tears a piece from the wheel. Regardless of his reaction, the girl persevered through the pain, occasionally whimpering as a particularly contumacious blood-clot catches with the fabric. Soon enough, the annoying cardigan is fully removed from the mangled limb, and both teenagers let out a sigh of relief in unison.

The solace is short lived, though, when Marinette peeks at her arm.

“Holy _shit,_ there’s no way that cut will heal without leaving a scar!” Marinette mourned the thought of never being able to wear short-sleeves again. Maybe once they cleaned the lingering blood, it would look better? She prayed on the theory as Chat took a wet towel and gently applied pressure to the slash, massaging the red liquid into the heavy cloth until he deemed that the only red remaining was the hash itself. Upon further inspection by the both of them, the cut thankfully wasn’t as deep as initially thought, but comparatively tame to the damage it showed before with all the blood. In fact, the injury was so shallow that by the time Chat got all the proper supplies from the medical kit and used them on the wound, he was convinced some outside force helped heal Marinette while his back was turned. The kitty was positively gob-smacked.

While Chat took to swathing her arm in gauze, Marinette’s mind fizzled in trepidation of what he might be assessing about her swift recovery. They both knew her laceration was far worse at the beginning of the night, so how in the world did it mend in such a short span of time? She gave an imploring stare to her purse, where a certain spotted kwami resided, Tikki most likely the source of the good karma that gave her body the stimulation to accelerate the healing process. Of course, the heroine was grateful to her miraculous for the extra support, but this jeopardized her carefully kept secret she’s hidden for the past few years; no mitigation could help her against the scrutiny of Chat Noir, albeit he was a sordid flirt with the tact for reckless behavior, he was still ridiculously attentive and razor witted to the point someone like him can connect easy dots in this form of revelation.

It was safe to say Marinette was doomed.

Lost in thought, she failed to notice her partner had finished bundling her wound and was currently analyzing her petite frame with heedful realization.  Adrien fitted his friend’s image with his partner’s suit, both of their voices melding into one harmonious timbre in his head. He recalled every aspect of the two, playing mix and match with the concepts until both persons blurred to create one big picture that never was called to attention because of his sheer ignorance. All the puzzle pieces fit together in miraculous concision, but he needed to be sure.

“Marinette.” His tone of voice was solemn, snapping the pale girl to attention; this attitude was all but new to Ladybug. Dread pooled in the pits of her stomach as she anticipated his next choice of words, pleading azure gaze now ensnared by his glowing emerald stare.

“Are you Ladybug?”

The world crumbled around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That ending thooooo  
> I think you'll like my next and final chapter for this prompt ;)


	3. Tough Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations are never easy, and Marinette is all too susceptible to panic in the face of truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last part in this frustrating-but-fun ficlet! I loved the prompt, honest to god I did, but it took so long to crank these three chapters out…I’ll be glad when I go back to writing drabbles! Tbh, this chapter is kind of a angsty mess?? but theres no way i’ll go back and rewrite to I’m sorry if it isnt satisfying to yall…
> 
> Prompt: "Protective Chat"  
> Pairing (why do i bother lol?): Marichat  
> Word Count: 2,899 (extra long as penitence for the wait)

For a few seconds, the world came to a standstill and crumbled away, leaving Marinette and Chat Noir to ponder in astound at the bold statement hanging in the air between them. Blue and green mirages pulsated to the beat of their hearts, clashing at the center-point of the intense staring contest as chartreuse waves formed from their color merge. It was so surreal, the two of them caught up in one another, aware of the fact that if they moved the strange bond would vanish.

_Glitch_

 As soon as the connection came, it dispersed in a clarifying blink, and reality seeped through the restroom walls in droves. In the reverie, Marinette looked down at herself to find she was not in her battered civilian dress, but decked in her Ladybug latex suit. _Glitch._   She held back a shout as she shot up from the now-freezing porcelain tub, nearly knocking Chat Noir off the ledge in a desperate scramble to get to the mirror, mind reeling from the abrupt transformation. She didn’t recall summoning Tikki—nor would ever have the incentive in the presence of someone else. Trembling hands gripped the sides of the sink top as Marinette gazed at her reflection, not believing her own eyes; her form was flickering from Ladybug to civilian identity over and over again, like a _Glitch._ Now it was just civilian identity gandering back at her, perturbation settling over her stricken features. _What was going on?_

A clawed-hand clamped down on her good wrist, halting the heroine in the mental swivet.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong Marinette?!” Chat queried, studying his classmate’s current turmoil. Did his question trigger something that caused her to react so--… _so unusually?_ Or is she trying to throw him off the accusation that she is his Lady? Either way, he was dead-set on learning what the matter was.

“I-I think I’m having a panic-attack…” Marinette responded, whirling towards Adrien with saucer-eyes and quivering knees. She knew one day she would have to reveal herself to Chat, assuming it was a dire circumstance that brought on the precipitous change of heart, and not some _stupid_ reason like this! Dieu, she just had to be clumsy and careless like that, de-transforming in front of some drunkard without checking the area first. She was such a fuck up sometimes, and now she’s paying the price of her Marinette-like actions.

 “Now?” Her partner asked incredulously, subtle malaise simmering in his almond-shaped pupils.

“What on earth led you to believe I’m Ladybug?” Marinette demanded shakily, insecurity getting the best of her. This happened every so often, but she usually had Tikki to talk her through her existential crisises. “Haha, someone like _me_ be Ladybug? That’s so _absurd!_ ” She shouted, bringing her other hand to her face. She needed to calm down because now she was going into full wig-out mode.

“Shh-! Princess, you need to lower the volume, unless you really want us to be found out by your parents!” Chat hissed, using his free hand to make a “quiet!” gesture; Marinette’s chary wouldn’t fool him, and he could tell it wasn’t fooling her either. At the same time, though, he certainly disliked the weird grin spreading on her lips…it was tiptoeing on hysteria.

“I mean, what could Ladybug and I possibly have in common? Our similarities start and stop with blue eyes and pig-tails…I could never have the guts to act like her.” Word vomit forced its way up from her queasy stomach, and spilled from her mouth. In her weak and vulnerable condition, she felt too tired to stop it from pouring like the blood from her veins had earlier. “Honestly, Chat, it’s so laughable that awkward, shy, impetuous me could compare to confident, brave, unwavering Ladybug. Now, let’s say I was Ladybug: Why didn’t I bother to check my surroundings before I released my transformation? Why didn’t I sense that hobo creeping up behind me with a weapon? Why didn’t I at least attempt to stop the bleeding? _Why did you have to save my irresponsible ass from harm when I’m supposed to be fully capable of saving myself?_ ” The freckled hero felt Tikki stir in her handbag, but knew with a heavy heart the kwami couldn’t console her at the moment.

“Tell me, Chat Noir, why is it that I was chosen to be Ladybug even though _I’m everything she’s not!_ ” Marinette felt angry tears rolls down her face as she said this, and made no action to wipe them away. Chat stood there shell-shocked, because Marinette had basically confessed to him that she was Ladybug, along with a baggage load of self-doubt and questioning.

Without even stopping to wonder if it was the right thing to do, Chat swept the crying Parisian heroine into a tight hug, millions of thoughts hitting him in one fell swoop. It was just so overwhelming, that Marinette was actually Ladybug, and had been since there freshman year all the way up to their senior year in lycée! But that’s a thought to be meditated over later, seeing as he had a bigger predicament at hand.

Literally.

“My Lady…Marinette…please calm down...” Adrien fumbled at what to tackle first with his partner. “This isn’t your fault, okay? None of us are perfect human beings--”

Marinette violently shoved him away as if he had just burned her with a lighter, a fire dancing behind her watery blue orbs. Chat flinched, mystified at her roughness.

“See, that’s the thing! As Ladybug, it’s expected that be nothing less than perfect! But look at me now, Chat! Take a good look! If I’m supposed to be flawless, why is it you discovered my identity without me outright telling you it was me! That’s the one single aspect of Ladybug I wanted to keep in my jurisdiction only, but of course I fucked up that too. Dieu,...and now you know who I am without my consent…” She buried her head in her hands, more distressed then before.

“Wait…are you upset that I figured out who you were…before you were ready to tell me?” Adrien was grasping at straws, desperately trying to come up with ways to comfort his anxious partner. He wasn’t exactly in the best shape to think of inspiring and clarifying reassurances, looking at his home life and past experiences with tragedies.

She peeked out from behind her hands, gaze still indecisive, but now more tired. “Well, yes, that’s a big part of this…look, Chat, after I clean up your back, maybe it would be best if we discussed…this…at a later and more planned date.” Marinette heaved a big, pacifying sigh before removing her fingers completely from her pale face. His partner’s slouched shoulders and defeated expression screamed that Adrien shouldn’t put this off any longer, but he did _not_ want to argue with a stubborn and hurt Ladybug. Once she’s made her up her mind on something, it was almost impossible to get her to think otherwise. So, to save them both the trouble and grief, Chat simply replied, “If that is what you want to do, then I can wait.”

Much to his surprise, Marinette flashed him a grateful smile and stepped forward for a hug, which he granted without a moment’s hesitation.

“Thank you, chaton. Really.” Her words were muffled by his slick suit, but they rang loud and clear in Adrien’s head. Marinette really was Ladybug, there was no denying that fact now. But, seeing his Lady like this…was heartbreaking; more so than the thought that his father only thought of him a mannequin for clothes, and that idea always stung to brood upon. He really wanted to talk things out while they were both still together AND vulnerable, but Chat figured he could let the kettle boil just a bit longer.

With a forced smile, the model offered a murmured “Anything for you, bugaboo” and began to untangle Marinette from his injured frame. When she had mentioned his glass-vexed back, his mind suddenly processed all the pain he managed to block out in favor of his classmate. Now, the stinging feeling was pulling at his spine like a deadweight for a muscle jockey: insistent and not to be ignored. Ladybug caught the taut look on the blondes face and ushered him to the toilet seat, commanding that he turn his back towards her. It was so weird to see that heroic determination on the shy female, Adrien could only stiffly comply.

With that, Marinette wasted no time in getting the stray shards of soda-infused substance from beneath the layers of Chat’s suit and skin. She felt bad for his Kwami, Plagg, and once again wished she was pickier on her location of rest; once more this would not be happening if it wasn’t for her cavalier attitude. As the heroine positioned the tweezers she got from the med-kit over a particularly big gash in her partners shoulder, she couldn’t help but ponder what would have transpired if everything had in reverse, and LADYBUG would have discovered who was under Chat’s mask. How would she have reacted to his civilian self and vice versa for her finding out? Certainly, he would have been beyond tickled to know his ‘bugaboo’ knew who he really was beneath that thin piece of leather. The same fabric that used to hide her identity still hides his, and for a moment, Marinette really wished it was the opposite situation. But only for that instant, before remember who she was and what she was doing. Mercy above, could she be anymore jumbled in the brain?

_Focus!_

No ambivalent feelings were mulled over as she plunged the plucky metal into the cut, swiftly latching onto long piece of glass remains and tugging. An unpleasant hiss emitted from Chat as she dislodged the first piece and immediately began on another, the lass muttering an apology as she transitioned. She could be kind and gentle or she could make it as quick as possible: his choice. With that in mind, there was no courtesy evident in the next messily pulled piece of glass, and Chat voiced his injustice.

“Marinette, I get that you’re diligently trying to _meow_ ke this as painless as _paws_ sible, but could you _maybe_ consider being a tad nicer before you tear apart my back? This feline doesn’t have as high of a pain tolerance as you may assume…” The pig-tailed Parisian felt her eye twitch as his poorly executed puns, but let up on the forceful ministrations for rest of the process, as requested.

The progress was slow going, but finally after thirty minutes of pained mewls and bloody hands, all the glass was completely rid of Chat’s back, much to the relief of both heros. Unfortunately, Ladybug couldn’t very well just wrap her partner’s mid-section in gauze, because he was in his suit. And she was NOT about to ask him to let go of transformation as a way to solve the problem, since that was risking an unwanted reveal (for her, obviously not Chat). Marinette could only regretfully dab the wounds on his back with cloth and hope for the best with his healing.

“That’s the best I can do with your transformation, Chat…I’m sorry.” She said as she wrung the towel out in the bathtub, eyeing all the blood with immense distaste. It was ridiculous, the amount of red liquid that came from the relatively sized abrasions. Chat was certainly a bleeder, in any case.

Adrien carefully twisted around on the porcelain seat, now sitting knee-to-knee with his Lady. She was still pre-occupied with squeezing out all the excess blood droplets on the soiled material, and the noir male was shocked to see how much of his fluids landed on Marinette. His partner, seemingly appeased with the wrung-out cloth, glanced up and caught the boy staring mid-gape. A blush adorned her cheeks as she followed his gaze to her further-ruined clothes, embarrassed at how much of a damned mess she appeared. Shamefully, he thought it was the cutest thing at the time, despite the conundrum.

“I’m sorry, once again, about this entire thing…Chat.” Marinette impulsively announced, spearing an apologetic look in the cat’s direction before just as quickly looking down. Why, one would ask, she didn’t know. It was his blood covering her, yet those fucking “I’m sorrys” never seemed to be enough for her to express her whole-hearted remorse.

Chat, who had a keen sense of impending disaster, grabbed the bluenette’s face with both hands and turned her gaze to his, delving in on her glittering cerulean orbs. His slit verdant stare melted the girl’s heart just a bit, and she leaned into his touch, welcoming the warm sensation pooling in her stomach.

“Stop with the apologies, Marinette. We’re heros, and this kind of stuff isn’t uncommon with our job. Trust me when I say this, but this is not by far the worst I’ve been hurt, and you know it. Hell, you’ve had worst breaks than this, Miss Lady Luck! Once I leave, lets just _attempt_ to put all this past us and focus on the current matter…” A sharp glare from her caused Chat to falter “…which will be resolved at a later date, like you said. Have faith in me, okay?...my Princess.” He couldn’t stop the oncoming smirk from the combined nicknaming, the playful leer stretching across his lips in a familiar fashion.

Just as earlier, a strange atmosphere settled over the two like a turquoise blanket of oblong-ness. Marinette felt herself leaning forward in anticipation she couldn’t quite place while Chat did likewise. Ladybug was like the sun, and Chat a humble planet, caught up in her ever-expansive orbit at the bat of an eyelash. Her solar-flaring gaze was blinding but captivating, even more so when her eye-lids slid closed. Yes, she was bruised, battered, and bloodied, but so was he! They were both confused and dissimulated (to put elegantly) at the moment, so why not just go with the flow?

Marinette and Ladybug were just so gorgeous, that the cat couldn’t help himself but fall in love with both at that exact moment their lips touched. It was a brief, but lovely kiss, almost like a feather brush to the skin. Marinette’s lips were bumpy and soft, while his were amazingly warm and sculpted. An odd mix of pleasure erupted from the mismatched facial components, and Adrien was all too accepting of it. Subsequently, he was all too accepting of anything concerning the love of his life, be it identities to lip texture.

They broke apart with a light gasp, drawing away from each other reluctantly; Chat’s hands never left his princess’s cheeks.

Marinette’s expression was a mix of content and contrition, something that clenched at the blonde’s chest painfully but he pushed down the feeling with a forced grin. Obviously she liked him, but it appeared she liked someone else, too, and Adrien hated that he was making her choose between affections.

“I think it’s time you left, Chat…I can’t imagine how your family would react if they went to wake you up and found you were gone.” Marinette whispered, removing his hands from her face with her own. This time, she didn’t meet his intense stare, which was just as well.

“So, I’m guessing we’ll discuss that little exchange at a later date, too? Or am I wrong?” He pressed, refusing to back down just yet.

“Chat, please, right now we’re…we’re just messed up with our feelings and stuff…honestly, I think some sleep will do us good. Next patrol, we’ll sit down and talk this out until our voices become ragged but right now is NOT a good time to talk about what just occurred…okay? I promise.” Was her poor reply, and Ladybug stood up decisively to drive her point home. This left Adrien no room to push the argument so he meekly sighed and watched her move past him the door.

With some difficulty, he stood up and followed close behind, stepping back a bit as she opened the door for him and hovered in the entry-way.

Chat stood apart from her in the small hallway, hesitant to leave in such disarray. Marinette seemed equally as regretful to see him go, but it was for the benefit of both of them if they just left things as they were for the time being. The entire night had been physically and emotionally draining, with a big helping of rollercoaster feelings that had somehow wormed their way into the duo’s relationship. It was safe to say all the tables has turned in the best and worst ways possible, and the feline couldn’t help but feel glad for that attribute.

Marinette’s raised fist startled Adrien from his turmoil, and he almost laughed at the out-of-context gesture.

“Pound it?” She asked hopefully, expression screwed in mock victory. Instead, of mirroring the movement, Chat dipped forwards and planted a scorching kiss on her cheek, loving the softness and heat of her supple skin beneath his lips.

“Not this time, buginette. See you tomorrow for patrol…please be safe.” He trailed off, turning and lithely prowling back up the stairs towards her room, destination the farthest and clearest thing in his mind.

Marinette just watched his retreating form, tear pinpricking at her eyes in renewed grief.

She was utterly helpless when it came to his protectiveness over her, and she just despised it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha what did i tell you? this is trash...*sweat drop*  
> my drabbles will be churned out a much faster pace (and they'll be better quality) I swear!

**Author's Note:**

> no turning back now welcome aboard the angst and fluff train i will be your conductor   
> Side Note: It's late and I posted this without spell-checking or anything like that, so sorry if anything is worded strangely or misspelled ;-;


End file.
